


Good Doesn't Mean Perfect

by Selenay



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Blame Fahre, Clumsy Sex, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:57:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenay/pseuds/Selenay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is there a chance that this is some weird alternate universe or a hallucination and I'll wake up back in the real world in five minutes?"</p>
<p>"I don't know," Phil said dryly. "Does that kind of thing happen to you regularly?"</p>
<p>Clint shrugged. "There's always a first time for everything and after the shit we've seen? It doesn't seem totally impossible anymore."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Doesn't Mean Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fahre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fahre/gifts).



> A couple of months ago, Fahre asked me whether I'd seen any fics around with a particular theme. I had to inform her that there weren't, not that I could find, and somehow the discussion about how sad it was that such a fic didn't exist resulted me writing the fic.
> 
> So I'm blaming Fahre and dedicating this to her as a thank you for all the beta work she's done and, er, will be doing over the next few months. Hope this fits the bill :-D

Clint carefully schooled his expression into the most neutral look he could manage. He hoped it didn't come out as disinterested because he definitely wasn't. It was just that he never got things he really wanted so there had to be some kind of hidden catch somewhere. Getting something he wanted as much as he wanted this never happened to him.

"Are you for real?" he asked and then winced because he was trying not to sound pathetically eager and that wasn't the way to do it.

Phil rolled his eyes. "Yes, I just poured my heart out to you for a joke. Obviously."

It was impossible to restrain the grin now so Clint stopped trying. "Is there a chance that this is some weird alternate universe or a hallucination and I'll wake up back in the real world in five minutes?"

"I don't know," Phil said dryly. "Does that kind of thing happen to you regularly?"

Clint shrugged. "There's always a first time for everything and after the shit we've seen? It doesn't seem totally impossible anymore."

"How about assuming this is real for now and going from there?"

"I can do that." Clint stepped closer. "I can definitely do that."

He reached out, cupped Phil's jaw and leaned in to kiss him. Their second kiss was just as good as their first and he closed his eyes and hummed happily when Phil wrapped an arm around his waist. Clint nipped Phil's lower lip and grinned against his mouth when Phil gasped.

This was actually better than their first kiss. The first kiss had been great, but they'd been surrounded by imminent death and massive explosions at the time and that kind of thing killed the mood a bit. Kissing Phil in his office, where the kiss could be as slow and deep as he'd always fantasised, was definitely better. He could take his time, explore Phil's mouth thoroughly, and let his hands roam wherever he wanted. Any thoughts of consequences or whether this was really happening vanished, consumed by a haze of lust and want and _need_.

It was Phil who eventually pulled away, took a deep breath and said, "We can't do this here."

Despite the blown pupils and reddened lips, Phil was breathing steadily and his expression was completely serious. Clint suddenly understood why people talked about 'hearts sinking' because the nasty sick feeling somewhere in his chest was exactly that sensation.

It took a real effort of will to shove that aside and pretend he was feeling confident. 

He pasted on his best, most obnoxious leer and said, "You're not the desk sex type then. That's a pity."

Phil shook his head, looking amused. "I'm not ready to have my sex life documented on SHIELD security cameras."

"Right, good point."

Clint nodded, trying not to look relieved that Phil hadn't changed his mind or, worse, decided to make them wait. Not that he was going to get pushy, but waiting on sex until they'd been dating for a while would probably drive him crazy.

"My place?" Phil suggested. "It's closer. And we're less likely to run into Stark than we are at yours." 

Phil looked, for once, slightly uncertain and Clint couldn't resist one last, hard kiss just to take the tentative look out of his eyes. Apparently they were both equally worried about messing this up, which restored a lot of Clint's confidence.

"Sounds good," Clint said before releasing him and carefully stepping away. "I need to grab a couple of things on the way. An hour?"

"That would be perfect."

On reflection, this might have been the moment where everything went horribly wrong.

***

There were a few things Clint considered himself to be an expert in and high on the list, just below shooting things, was sex. It wasn't like he'd deliberately set out and trained the way he'd trained to shoot, but sex was one of those things. It happened.

A lot.

No, really, there had never been many times when he'd had to go out looking. It just seemed to always be there, ready to be taken and enjoyed. Not in a creepy way where everyone he met threw themselves at him, no way. And Clint wasn't vain enough to think everyone he met was propositioning him either. Sex just seemed be available as an option frequently and Clint was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It was fun for everyone and practice bred experience so it was something he was good at. Nobody ever get hurt, there were no ties or committed relationships, and Clint made a point of never letting fucking get in the way of a good friendship. He'd never understood the people who got themselves tied up in knots over sex and love and _feelings_ because life was too short for that kind of pain.

Then he met Phil Coulson and suddenly there was angst and feelings and all the things he'd carefully avoided for most of his life.

It really sucked.

Sometimes he wondered whether it would all have been avoided if he'd just propositioned Phil the moment he met the man. A few good rolls in the sack might have been exactly the right plan to prevent the five years of pining and wanting he endured. He told himself that he was respecting Phil's position and Phil didn't seem like the "quick fuck, all's good" type anyway.

He lied to himself a lot about that.

And the part that really sucked was the discovery that after falling in love, epically and painfully in love, sex with other people didn't feel right. Sure, it was still fun and Clint didn't give it up completely, but it wasn't the good, deep down satisfying thing it had been before. It felt weirdly...empty.

Late at night, when the world was dark and lonely, Clint sometimes resented the way that all these feelings had changed his entire outlook. Those moments weren't ones he was proud of but he figured they were justified because his weird fixation on Coulson was making more than just his sex life into something less than fun. It was making his everyday life less fun as well because, it turned out, falling in love bleeds over into everything and Clint had never experienced that before.

It was those thoughts keeping him company as he made his way down to his car and out of the SHIELD HQ parking lot. He wasn't even aware of driving and stopping at a store somewhere until he was standing at the register hunting for his wallet. The clerk smirked widely as Clint threw a wad of cash at him and hurried out of the store with his purchases.

He shoved the bags into an overnight case he always kept in the trunk of his car, hit the road again and must have gone into another fugue state because he arrived at Phil's apartment with no memory of how he got there.

Clint absolutely wasn't in some kind of giddy happy trance where he planned out his entire life with Phil down to the house they'd buy with a yard for the dog. Although the table decorations at Stark's last big party would be perfect for a wedding and maybe he should ask Pepper where they came from.

He grabbed the case from the car and took the steps up to Phil's apartment two at a time, completely failing to keep a wide grin off his face. His quick knock at the door seemed to echo around the hallway and Clint bounced a little on his toes while he waited for Phil to open it.

OK, maybe this was the moment where things actually went horribly wrong in a practical sense.

***

The door opened and Clint's breath caught in his throat. Phil hadn't changed, he was still wearing his suit from earlier, but he'd loosened his tie and undone the top button of his shirt. There was a faint flush in his face and Clint caught a faint whiff of furniture polish from the apartment. Clint suddenly felt a lot better about still wearing his Hawkeye uniform and SHIELD-issue hoodie when he saw that Phil hadn't got dressed up either.

"Hi," Clint said.

Phil smiled. "Hi. Come on in."

Clint let Phil close the door behind them before he smoothly turned around, put a hand behind Phil's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. That was the intention, anyway.

The reality was that he forgot about the overnight bag in his hand, the hand he was going to use to draw Phil close, so he knocked over a nearby table with it as he swung around. After the table he should have realised that something wasn't right, but it was like some other guy had taken control of his limbs so he continued the motion and hit Phil in the back with it.

On the up side, it did make Phil fall into his arms. On the down side...the down sides were too numerous to count.

"I am so sorry," Clint said immediately.

Phil smiled, shrugged and took the bag out of his hand. "I didn't like that table anyway. Maybe you should put that down?"

Clint nodded and hoped that nothing he'd bought was breakable (what the fuck was in that thing?) as Phil dropped the bag on the floor. Phil didn't seem particularly upset and he didn't seem particularly inclined to move away from Clint either, which was good because Clint didn't really want him to leave. He pulled Phil a little closer and leaned in to kiss him.

Kiss number four was definitely the best yet. It was slow and gentle and Clint groaned, just a tiny bit, when their tongues slid together. Phil seemed perfectly happy to stand in his hallway and kiss for long, long minutes so Clint went with it.

Right up until he felt something trickling down his chin and he realised he was drooling. 

Like an inexperienced teenager.

There was no way to recover from that gracefully but Clint attempted to anyway, slowly pulling away so he could try to subtly wipe away the drool. The quiet sound of protest Phil made when the kiss ended made heat curl low in Clint's belly. Unfortunately, Phil's eyes opened just in time to catch Clint wiping his mouth and yeah, this was awkward.

"I'm a little out of practise," Phil said quietly.

It was Phil's way of giving Clint an out for his so-far unimpressive performance and Clint took it gratefully, even though it hadn't really be _that_ long for him.

"Hmm," Clint said vaguely. "I know the feeling."

Over Phil's shoulder, Clint could see the table he'd knocked over and he noticed for the first time that it was leaning against a shoe rack that held a couple of sets of dress shoes and a pair of old, tatty sneakers. He looked down to check Phil's feet and kicked himself mentally when he spotted the navy blue socks.

"Should I..?" he asked, gesturing at his feet.

Phil shrugged. "Only if you want to."

Clint nodded even though it would mean letting go of Phil for a minute. He didn't want to but he knew that his boots were probably covered in mud and dust and monster blood and Phil seemed like a guy with certain housekeeping standards. "I want to."

He reluctantly stepped back a couple of paces so he could crouch to unknot the laces, only remembering after he was down that bending and making a display of it might have been a better idea. More seductive, anyway, with the option to show off his ass and give Phil an unsubtle preview. It usually worked pretty well in his experience.

There was no easy way to change positions now, though, so he set to work, got the first boot loosened easily and then somehow the laces on the second ended up in a massive nightmarish tangle. Clint frowned down, trying not to swear, and tried again but all he only made it worse.

"Having trouble?" Phil asked.

Clint looked up and found Phil's amused eyes watching him. "No?"

"You don't sound certain about that," Phil said. "Let me try."

"It's fine," Clint said, standing quickly. "I, ah, don't like...uh...taking..."

He trailed off and tried to work out how he'd gone from confident potential lover to stammering idiot in such a short space of time.

Phil knelt down to begin working at the stubborn knot and Clint had to swallow hard at the sight of Phil on his knees, head down in concentration. The entire visual fried a few brain cells for a minute.

Clint closed his eyes, took a couple of deep, calming breaths and reminded himself that this was fine. He was good at this. There was still time pull it back and act normally.

"All done." Phil looked up and patted Clint's knee. "Step back?"

It was a relief to step out of his boots without doing a pratfall and Clint gave himself a mental slap on the back. From here on, everything was going to be absolutely fine.

Which, on reflection, was a fucking stupid thing to think.

Phil was the one who pulled Clint into a kiss this time. He kissed like there was nothing else in the world except Clint and this need to get as close as two people could while fully clothed and upright. Clint definitely approved of the effort, particularly when Phil sucked on his tongue lightly. Who knew Phil Coulson was this good? It sent a shiver down Clint's spine to think that he might be the only person from now on who would get to know this particular secret.

Somehow Clint ended up with his back against the wall and he hadn't even been aware that Phil was walking them there until his shoulders hit the flat, cool plaster. Not that Clint minded, he really (really) liked walls. He grinned against Phil's mouth and started pulling at Phil's shirt, determined to get his hands on some warm skin.

It was as far as he got because Phil started kissing his way down Clint's jaw and then nibbling and sucking and _licking_ at a spot just where his jaw and throat met and Clint moaned embarrassingly loudly. Something shorted out somewhere and Clint wasn't even aware of doing more than groaning and rubbing shamelessly against Phil's thigh for a while.

The part where Phil unbuckled and unzipped his tac vest? Clint argued that nobody could possibly be expected to pay attention to anything when Phil was doing _that_ to their neck.

He wasn't aware of what Phil's fingers were doing until he felt material slither down his arms and catch at his elbows, with the wall suddenly cool against his skin as he was pressed back against it again.

Clint reluctantly opened his eyes and definitely didn't make any weird noises when Phil raised his head and looked at him. Phil's lips were red and swollen and Clint had never seen anyone look as wild as Phil did with their hair still neat and flat and their shirt unwrinkled.

He wanted to do something about the shirt, his fingers itched for it, but his arms were trapped by the layers of hoodie and tactical vest.

"I hope I'm not being too-" Phil began awkwardly.

"No no!" Clint said quickly, cutting him off. "Not too. Not anything too."

Phil raised both eyebrows.

"I swear, there were more words in that sentence when I was thinking it," Clint said wryly.

"I thought there might have been," Phil said.

Clint shrugged and dropped his hands from Phil's waist so he could get them free from the trap of his clothes. His left hand caught for a moment on something and he tugged harder, almost hitting Phil on the nose when the sleeve suddenly pulled through the armhole of his vest, turning inside out with the cuff still tight around his wrist.

Phil smiled calmly and said, "May I?"

It seemed completely unfair that two simple words and Phil's fingers carefully easing his hand out of the sleeve could give Clint such complicated feelings.

The jacket and vest caught for a moment between Clint and the wall, until he stepped forward slightly and allowed them to fall. Phil moved back to accommodate him and then continued walking back. The finger he hooked through a belt loop on Clint's pants was unnecessary: Clint couldn't have stopped himself following if he'd tried. They weren't even really touching now and Clint wondered whether this was a good time to try the "grab tie, yank into a kiss" thing he'd been longing to experiment with.

Then again, he'd probably trip Phil over if he tried so Clint decided to save it for another day. Maybe many other days, if this went well.

Phil's bedroom was just down the hall on the left and Clint grinned when he caught sight of the neatly made bed. He was willing to bet those were fresh sheets.

Pushing Phil straight down onto the bed was tempting, but Clint wasn't sure he wanted this over that quickly. Instead he put his hands on Phil's waist to turn and press him against the wall.

It probably would have worked better if Clint hadn't caught his foot on something and stumbled, turning his gentle pressure into a hard shove. The sound of Phil's head hitting the wall was worryingly loud.

"Are you alright?" Clint asked.

Phil took a careful breath. "I'm fine. Maybe I should steer for now, though?"

"Maybe."

A little voice in the back of Clint's mind warned him that this was all going to shit and Phil would probably be suggesting they wait to until tomorrow now. Or at least until he was less concussed. The voice shut up when Phil pulled him into another kiss and Clint gasped at the feel of Phil's shirt against this oversensitive skin. He allowed the kiss to deepen and he hummed when Phil's fingers carded through his hair.

This time he didn't get completely lost, though. He wanted this to be as good for Phil as it already had been for him and that meant Phil needed to be wearing far fewer clothes. He managed to shift away enough to get his hands up near Phil's neck and then began carefully unknotting his tie.

That was the plan, anyway.

Reality was less smooth. It was becoming a theme. His fingers turned into fumbling things that he had no control over and somehow it all went badly wrong and he didn't even notice until Phil made a strangled 'urk' sound.

Clint stepped back quickly, swearing, but his legs seemed to be held together by something so he immediately stumbled, tripped and landed on his knees. His head collided hard with Phil's leg and Phil's quiet grunt was definitely more pain that pleasure this time. It took Clint a moment to work out exactly what happened and then he was torn between irritation and admiration at how Phil had managed to unzip, unbuckle and partially slide down his combat pants _without him noticing_.

"You are some kind of ninja," Clint said when he'd caught his breath. "Seriously, how the fuck do you do that?"

Phil looked down at him with an amused smile, his fingers working to unravel the mess Clint had made of his tie. "I learned how zips work at an early age. I can teach you, if you'd like."

It was difficult to know whether it was the dry tone or the expression that turned Clint on more. He groaned and rested his forehead on Phil's thigh. This was going epically, horribly wrong. He was half-afraid he'd end up doing permanent damage at this rate but at the same time he was so hard it hurt and not finishing this might kill him.

Clint took a deep, careful breath and kind of nuzzled a little at the leg just under his lips. Then he grinned. There was one way to redeem himself. He'd had enthusiastic reviews over the years, he was already down here and how could he mess up a blow job?

Twenty different ways he could mess it up immediately sprang to mind but Clint pushed them all away to nuzzle with a bit more intent, working his way up and across until he could nudge the hard bulge in Phil's pants with his nose.

There was a sharply indrawn breath from above and okay, this might actually work. He might actually look competent.

Nudging turned into open mouthed kissing and mouthing and there was a quiet thunk from above followed by a muffled 'ow'.

Clint looked up to see Phil watching him with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. He grinned, probably closer to a dirty leer, and slowly reached up to draw the zipper down.

Phil caught his hands. "Maybe you should...not? This time."

"Right." Clint hesitated. "Not...what? Which bit is a not?"

Phil tugged at his hands and Clint reluctantly got to his feet, trying not to feel embarrassed about the fact that he was standing in Phil's bedroom with his pants around his ankles and Phil was still fully dressed.

"Uh," Phil said awkwardly.

Clint narrowed his eyes. "You don't trust me with your fly."

"Not...not tonight," Phil said and he really sounded like it was taking everything in him to keep his voice steady and not laugh. "You seem a little overwhelmed right now. Maybe you should let me...uh..."

"Steer?" Clint supplied helpfully.

Phil shrugged.

"I'm usually much better at this," Clint said, sounding pathetic even to his own ears.

Phil just continued looking at him with a half-smile that was both annoying and, Clint had to admit, incredibly hot.

"I promise, this?" Clint waved vaguely around them, attempting to encompass the pratfalls and potential concussions but nearly taking out Phil's nose in the process for the second time that day. "This is not normal. I'm way better at sex than this."

"Had a lot of glowing feedback?" Phil asked slyly.

"Fuck yeah!" Clint paused. Thought. Considered whether this was actually a good time to boast about the variety and volume of his sexual past. "That probably sounded bad."

Phil shrugged. "I'm slightly intimidated if you've had _that_ many good reviews, but I'm sure I'll get past it. Eventually."

Clint swallowed and stepped forward, waddled really because _pants_ , and put his hand over Phil's chest where he could feel Phil's heartbeat against his fingers. "I've never had sex with someone I'm in love with before. So. You know. There's that."

It seemed to be the right thing to say because Phil's eyes darkened and he wrapped his arms around Clint and kissed him so hard Clint wondered whether they would eventually meld into each other. He swallowed and clutched Phil's shoulders with desperate fingers and almost didn't care that he groaned embarrassingly loudly again.

This time he did retain enough awareness to notice when Phil slid his hands under the waistband of his boxers and carefully pushed them down. It was either better awareness or Phil choosing not to be a ninja about it and Clint didn't really care which.

The whole stealth stripping thing was fucking hot, though, and Clint was very much hoping this would be a feature of their relationship. He got a little distracted by considering the many possibilities of Phil sneakily stripping him, enough that he apparently stopped multitasking and Phil nipped him gently on the lip to regain his attention.

Then Phil's arms tightened around his waist and Phil _lifted_ and Clint almost swallowed his own tongue. He'd been aware for a long time that Phil's suits hid a decent musculature, but he hadn't considered quite how strong Phil could be.

Maybe they needed to investigate this in the future. With a wall. Or something. Clint resolved to let Phil know about the whole wall idea very soon.

He _really_ liked walls, okay?

Possibly he'd wait until his sex mojo was back, though. He didn't want to put them both in medical.

Phil didn't lift him high, just enough for his feet to clear the floor and Clint tightened his arms around Phil's shoulder's to help. He would have wrapped his legs around Phil's hips to help with weight distribution but his ankles were still tangled in his pants and shorts. This whole lifting thing was probably just to make sure Clint didn't fall over again but he didn't really care. It was hot and he liked it.

He suspected Phil knew how much he liked it because the sound he made was closer to a whine than a groan, which suddenly made all the groaning much less embarrassing by comparison. Hopefully Phil was a fan of plenty of vocal encouragement or this was going to get awkward very soon.

Phil carried him the three steps to the bed and dropped him unceremoniously onto it. While Clint was still bouncing and trying to orient himself through the haze of lust, Phil efficiently stripped the socks and remaining clothes from his feet and dropped them on the floor. Clint swallowed at the look in Phil's eyes.

And instead of saying something smooth and cool and seductive, he said. "So, it's a firm no on sucking you off?"

There was a long moment of silence before Phil winced and said, "Maybe another time."

"It's the thought of my teeth near your cock that's the problem, right?"

"Tonight?" Phil shrugged and began to unbutton his shirt. "Yes."

"Another time, then."

"I'll hold you to that."

The smile Phil gave him was enough to return some of Clint's confidence so he sat up and reached out to help him. Phil batted his hands away and Clint rolled his eyes but acquiesced, leaning back on his elbows to watch Phil undress quickly and methodically.

Somehow he even managed to take his socks off without looking awkward. Clint was impressed.

When Phil was finally naked (and the flush in his cheeks went all the way down his chest which was just perfect), he straddled Clint's thighs and it took all Clint's willpower not to just yank him down to kiss and thrust and go completely wild.

Instead Clint waited and was rewarded with Phil leaning down to kiss him, slow and deep, and then nibble down his throat before worrying at his collar bone with lips and teeth. Clint held on tight and prayed he wouldn't do something really stupid like dig his nails in and draw blood.

He wasn't sure drawing blood was a good thing first time out.

Clint raised his hips a little and rolled them and the friction and heat felt incredible.

He could have stayed like that for a long time but Phil had apparently planned ahead and knew what he wanted (and maybe he could tell that Clint was starting to worry that they were putting off the actual sex in case it was terrible) so after a while Clint felt a small tube being pressed in his hand. 

A tube but not a small packet and Clint managed to regain some brain cells from his lust haze.

"Phil?" he asked.

Phil met his eyes calmly. "Yes?"

"I thought you were the safe sex type?"

Phil shrugged. "Turns out, everything I have is expired."

"Shit, we should have gone to my place." Clint held up the tube. "I'm not letting you fuck me without protection. And I'm definitely not fucking you without. You don't know where I've been."

"I've got a pretty good idea where you've been," Phil said with a small smile. "But us not being able to do that one thing doesn't mean we can't have sex."

"You'd be happy with just a hand job?" Clint said. "After all...this."

Phil chuckled. "It might be the safest option."

Clint snorted indignantly.

"And who says it would be 'just' anything?" Phil continued.

"That sounds a lot like a dare."

Phil's smile was...okay, Clint had never actually thought that he'd see Phil with a wicked smile. He'd had a lot of fantasies over the years but that expression had never been there, which was a shame because Phil's sly smile promised to shred what was left of Clint's mind.

"It could be," Phil said. "Is this something your extensive experience doesn't cover?"

Clint glared. "Fuck. You."

"After we've been to the drugstore, definitely," Phil said agreeably.

And then he destroyed every one of Clint's assumptions about what could be done with hands, teeth and carefully employed slipperiness. Clint tried to contribute but there was something about Phil being so completely thorough at finding all his most sensitive places that made Clint lose his focus whenever he tried.

All he could do was moan and gasp and finally shudder as he came with an intensity that took him completely by surprise.

Phil was a few heartbeats behind him and Clint was somehow unsurprised that he was completely silent, his eyes locking onto Clint's as he seemed to hold motionless for a long, long moment before collapsing to one side with a quiet sigh.

They lay still for a while as sweat cooled and their pulses slowed. Clint had never really been into the whole post-sex cuddling thing but this felt pretty good, their legs still tangled together as they lay on their sides pressed against each other. It felt calm and happy.

Post-sex cuddling also gave him no chance to do anything stupid like whack Phil on the nose again, which was another bonus.

"So, what did you bring in that bag?" Phil asked after a while.

"Bag?" Clink said blankly.

"The bag you attempted to destroy half my hallway furniture with."

"Oh. That bag." Clint frowned. "I've got...no fucking idea."

"Really?" Phil's smile was a little disbelieving. "You packed an overnight bag that size and you have no idea what you put in it?"

"It's my go bag," Clint said. "You know."

Phil raised an eyebrow. "Seemed a bit heavy for that."

"Uh, I might have stopped at the store for a few things."

"What sort of things?"

Clint tried to think but his mind was as blank as it had been when he threw the bills at the clerk. "Uh."

They unpacked the bag much later, after a nap and a shower and another nap (Clint was going to have a bruise for _months_ from the shower sex attempt), and stared at the pile of stuff in horrified silence for a while. Phil picked up one of the boxes of condoms and checked the date.

"I'm not sure whether to be flattered or terrified that you thought we'd need all these," Phil said, nodded at the rest of the boxes. "We might be able to get through all of them before they expire. Maybe."

"So I got a little carried away," Clint said, trying to sound cocky instead of mortified.

Phil picked up the pair of fluffy pink handcuffs. "Carried away?"

"I hate you."

"That's not what you said earlier."

"Fuck you."

Phil held up the condoms and an overly large tube of lube. "We do have the supplies for that now, if you're still interested."

Clint took a deep breath, willing his brain to resume functioning. "I'm still interested. Very interested. Just so you know, this thing we're doing isn't just about sex. This is about all the feelings and shit we talked about earlier."

"But?"

"No but." Clint shrugged. "All that feelings shit? Kinda made my brain and my fine motor control fry so maybe we should wait on the whole fucking thing until I've got that figured out."

"Or I could drive," Phil said and there was that wicked smile in his eyes again.

Clint's frazzled brain went 'goosh'. "Or we could do that. Yeah."

Before his brain shut down completely, he reflected that the thing about sex when it was tangled up with feelings was how good it could be even when it went disastrously wrong.


End file.
